The amount of times i’ve spent in hospitals and being admitted is ridiculous. i used to brag a few years ago that I had never been in hospital; never broke a bone, never been poorly, well guess who’s not laughing now.
The first time I was admitted in hospital was an eye opener. Sunday 19th March 2017, I had been diagnosed around 5 months and never really had a good day, but for me I just got on with it, thought it was something that I just had to deal with now!
I went into A&E through night with the worst pain i’ve ever been in, Dr Valentine (honestly) assessed me with the usual questions “how many bowel movements a day?” “what are your bowel movements like?” “Have you noticed any blood in the stools?” To which I replied, of course, I go around 10 times on a good day and there is always blood… but thats just normal for me.
“You call that normal?”
Trust me, now I know, that’s not just normal and it was always etched into me. It is not normal.
I spent my first week in on a max dose of the usual prednisolne and because I’d been losing that much blood a good old iron and potassium infusion! Luckily I was in my own little room with my own toilet, where my Mam could visit whenever she wanted and bring me nice snacks and company! Sounds like a holiday camp, I knew I was going to have to get used to this, it certainly wasn’t going to be my last time.
I’ve since been in multiple times, to different hospitals. Whitehaven, Carlisle and Newcastle RVI, it’s nice to try different hospitals, different scenery but each time a new set of friends made.
I could go on all day about the people I’ve met whilst being on different wards. I liked being in my own room, and sometimes that was essential (like when I had to have a commode as I was going on toilet about 30 times a day, and I was not comfortable with 5 others watching me do that) but I like being on a ward for the conversations and it stops it being so lonely.
It goes from the lovely Lillian who kept waking me up through night as she believed there was a dog licking her hand (definitely dreaming), to the wails of Frank who managed to wake up at 8pm every night and then fall asleep at 7am the next morning, Bernadette and her carers who put me and Connor on to our favourite Thai Van in Carlisle Viaduct carpark (Shoutout to the Pad Thai strEAT food).
In my last visit to the RVI for my sub-total colectomy, I was in for 15 nights, made bearable by every single person on the ward, I will never forget any of you! (Apart from the woman opposite who complained she couldn’t get any sleep when they discovered through night I fell ill with an infection and had to keep coming in to monitor me and whizz me off for emergency CT scans, honestly I would much rather have been getting some sleep too.)